


Aphrodite's Slaves

by The_Midnight_Elements



Series: The Alliance of Hell [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:17:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1931640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Midnight_Elements/pseuds/The_Midnight_Elements
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Horsemen, a four man team with a habit of leaving bodies in their wake. The Devil’s Rejects, a six man team that effortlessly dismantles Rings of Crime around the world. The Knights of Hell, a four man team that has a bad habit of turning their enemies into piles of ash. Together these teams form the Alliance of Hell, a shadowed organization that has decided to make the world a better place through dark means. </p><p>A new Crime Ring named the Aphrodite’s slaves has appeared, snatching women and children off the streets and leaving no trace. They would have never fallen onto Alliance’s radar if they hadn’t made one very critical mistake; they abducted a group of women from a club. Not just any women. They abducted three very important women to Alliance. Now these three teams are about to unleash Hell on earth to get them back. Aphrodite’s Slaves have no idea just what they brought upon themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This is a brand new story for me. I am simply writing it and posting it. I don’t have an editor for this and there are no chapters other than the posted ones. So forgive me for the delays in posting and the grammar, spelling and continuity issues.

Prologue: Snatching the Handlers

The music was bass heavy, sending pulses of energy through the bodies of the club goers. Three stunning women were all standing around, dancing in a circle, seducing their onlookers. 

One had dark hair that was a mess of waves that framed her face. Her slate grey eyes stood out when the blue lights flashed across her face. She wore a skin tight high-waist skirt and a crop top. This dark beauty was accompanied by two beautiful blonds. The first blond hair pin straight hair that flowed around her as she rolled her body with the music. Her eyes were a fathomless brown that seemed to draw people in. She had a cocky grin on her lips as she ran her hands up and down her leather pants. She laughed as she watched the other blond toy with an unsuspecting man. The other blond had dark blue eyes and classic features. She wore tailored pants and a button down, missing the top few buttons. With the mess bun she looked like a naughty librarian. 

These three were trying to shake off the hard work week. They didn’t often go out together. Most night they were stuck behind desks, shooting off orders and commands to their teams. But this week had been rough and they need to decompress. They knew they wouldn’t be much help to their teams if they didn’t unwind and distress periodically. Tonight was one of those nights. Deep in the heart of London, they danced their stress away.

Too bad other people weren’t taking a break. Actually five men at the club were there working. That had to meet quota and they were just shy of that. So they were at the club seeking to rectify that as soon as possible. The bartender spied the girls, noticing that they were drinking and having fun. They were beauties and could easily make more than their weight in money should they become a part of their trade. The bartender nodded to one of his men, signaling that he had picked out their targets. He spiked the olives with a tranquilizer and waited till the women came back to order. Three of the men moved to different sides of the bar, getting ready to help the women out to the ‘cab’ that was waiting outside when the tranquilizer kicked in. The fourth man vanished to go make sure everything was ready to transport the women off to their facility for training.

Soon the women left the dance floor and headed over the bar. Really, it was too easy. Not because the women were classically stupid. They weren’t drinking too much, weren’t being too ridiculous, and they weren’t alone. It was easy because the men had a flawless system in place. The taller blond ordered a martini with lots of olives and the other two follower suit, though without the extra olives. With the drinks downed and the olives eaten the women became to succumb to the effects of the tranquilizer, the taller blond more so than the others. The other two grew worried and tried to help their friend out of the place. Thankfully two strong guys help them carry her out to a cab as they too started to fell woozy. With her last moment of clarity, the brunette casually reached up and pressed the dark blue stone on her necklace, knowing very well that two drinks could never cause such reactions. The three girls passed out in the back of the cab. 

As the cab drove off, the three men watched the cab leave before walking off casually. It was as if they were just nice, considerate people. No one would suspect them if they watched the cameras. The women left in a cab and that was the last time they were ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

The Horsemen:

Thick arms flexed and rolled as the captivate man tried to overcome the mechanical bindings holding his wrists to his lower back. The man was thankful that at least he was wearing his pants. His dark eyes watched the wiry redhead that stood before him. The Horsemen of Conquest always got this way after a particularly difficult mission and the Horsemen of Death allowed it. How could he not? He enjoyed being claimed by Conquest. The bindings, made by the Techno-guy from the Devil’s Rejects, were just so. The binding held his arms flush to his back, his knees together and pushed his back out, presenting him like a canvas to the other Horseman. 

There already were bite marks over the deep bruises he acquired from their last mission. He had made a mistake, had gone off by himself and didn’t stick to the plan. His mistake was rewarded by a vicious beating before brain matter splattered all over his body. No one touched Death without it falling upon them. His punishment for his folly was to be bound and Conquered. He had little doubt that War and Famine were already doing something similar. Those two rarely went a couple of hours without tearing each other down.

“Gregory, do stop thinking” Was his only warning before a hand pushed into his hair to yank his head back. Steel grey eyes stared down coldly at him. He gave Conquest a dark smirk.

“My, Do make me” He returned with a dark purr. Those cold eyes narrowed before his mouth was roughly taken. Mycroft bite his lips and plundered his mouth, taking what was rightfully his. But the moment was shattered by a silent red blinking. Mycroft pulled away, his eyes shifting over to the twin cellphones on the nightstand. The red leds were blinking, indicating that playtime was over. He moved away from his prize, disappointed that he wasn’t going to get a chance to remind the Horsemen of Death just why he should play by the plan. Mycroft walked over to his cellphone, picking up a small remote and pressing the only button. The bonding fell off of and refolded into a tiny box.

“Damn, I was just getting’ into that” Gregory said as he jumped off the bed to grab his own cellphone. He brushed a soft kiss against Mycroft’s neck before he picked up his shirt. They had formed the Four Horsemen team when Mycroft’s brother turned eighteen and finally kicked that poor addiction of his. Now, at 26, he had a head of premature grey and a lover who was just as deadly as he was. It was a win all around.

He shoved his cellphone into his pocket as well as the binding kit and headed out with Mycroft, knowing they would have to head to the main office in order to figure out why they were being sent out on an emergency so soon after returning from one. Maybe the other two teams were still out on missions.

The tall, lanky Horsemen of Famine suddenly appeared in the hallway, cutting off their progress. His dark silver eyes took in their appearances quickly before he vanished just as suddenly as he came. It was clear he was going to fetch War so they could leave together. Gregory walked to the front door, grabbing his .45 and tucking it into the waistband of his jeans, knowing it was going to be needed if they were being called in on a code red. 

“Any ideas as to what we are headin’ off to?” He watched Mycroft pull his umbrella out of the stand. The redhead twirled in thoughtfully before he spoke in a hushed tone.

“I believe this is something more personal. The director didn’t call, which means he didn’t want to speak with us. Tone would have given away the gravity of the situation and would have revealed things he wishes to say to directly to us, in a place where we can be contained should things go wrong.” Mycroft stared thoughtfully at the floor, his mind already forming all the possibilities and picking the one that made the most sense. But it was also the one that sat like acid in his gut. He stuffed his hand into his pocket as The Horsemen of War stalked out of the hallway, a tightly wound ball of nerves. It was clear that Sherlock had explained the same thing to Watson. 

Now was not the time to rein the younger members in. They needed to get to the compound as quickly as possible. The sooner they arrived, the sooner they could dismantle the problem and return to their former activities. 

===============================================================================

The Devil's Rejects:

 

“Shit, _please_ ” A scarred hand gripped the sheets as he panted, trying to hold onto something. His brown hair sticking to his forehead as he pushed back against the forward motions. A large hand grabbed a hold of his hair and yanked his head sideway, forcing him to stare up dark blue eyes. He choked back a sob as his leader pushed all the way in, finally fully seated in him.

“Shh, you knew this was going to happen the moment you decide to make another stupid play. Self sacrificing plays that end with you getting injured lead to this. Clint knows that, Natasha knows that and you especially know that. Now shh, relax.” He pulled his hips all the way back before slamming back into place, sending Tony face first into the mattress with a sob. The onslaught continued, each movement pushing Tony close and closer to the edge. But he wouldn’t be getting relief. Not after risking his life to dismantle a bomb that was seconds from going off. The Devil’s Rejects had a clear rule. Near death experiences lead to group reassurances that the member is still alive. Which was an all day session of submission and control at the whims of their team mates. 

“Sir, Mr. Coulson is on the phone. He says the entire team is mandated to return to the compound immediately.” Jarvis’ voice cut through the scene like a hot knife. Tony groaned and slummed against the bed.

“Jesus, J. Nice timing.” He grumbled, his brown eyes staring impishly up at the ceiling. Steve sighed in frustration before he grabbed Tony’s hips tighter and smirked a bit. The brunette was prepared for the sudden jerk backwards and the brutal finish that Steve raced towards. Eventually Tony tumbled over the edge, quickly followed by Steve. The blond slid out of Tony and got off the bed.

“Hit the showers, Shell Head. We’re needed” Just like that, Steve was gone. Tony knew that Steve was now in Commander Mode, not caring he was naked. Tony stretched out her tired muscles before hitting the showers and pulled on a suit. His mind was delightfully blank for once. Being a genius was hard. It meant that he was constantly thinking, having a constant stream of information bombarding his mind every waking moment. Expect for moments like this when he was freshly claimed by his team and his place in their family reaffirmed. It was something he never got before. Before the Devil’s Rejects, he had been a nerdy, bullied and abused kid who knew too much for his own good and experienced too much in his younger years. But now he was a 25 year old genius killer who had a team that had his back and knew how emotionally stunted he was. Tony Stark was a huge name in technology, but Iron Man was a feared and respected agent of the Rejects. 

He walked of the bedroom and found Widow sitting on the back of the couch, face carefully blank. When she looked up at him, something in her eyes made every muscle in his body tense. Neither of them said anything as she gracefully pushed off the back of the couch and walked to his side. She reached out and took his wrist. Her hold was like a shackle, making it clear that the call had something to do with him. Fear and anxiety coated his stomach and he took a retreating step back, not liking this at all. A solid hand came down on his shoulder, nearly making his knees buckle. He looked up to find Thor staring down at him as well before he was being pushed out of the room towards a car. Was this it? Were they going to get rid of him? Was this their way of saying they wanted nothing to do with him anymore?

The car door opened, revealing Hulk in his regular form sitting there. He reached out, his gaze was entreating behind his glasses. It relieved some of Tony’s anxiety. Clearly something else was wrong because Bruce would never be so calm and soothing if they were going to get rid of him. Tony slid in beside his friend, Natasha following, refusing to let go of his wrist.  
“Whats going on?” He asked, his voice hesitant, making it clear he still hadn’t come down from their session. Bruce reached up and soothed Tony’s wet hair.

“You’ll have to hear it from Coulson, Captain decided he is the best person to explain it.” Bruce said in an apologetic tone, making it clear there was nothing he could tell him. But Tony just relaxed back into the seat. Clearly this wasn’t a huge thing and they weren’t getting rid of him. That was enough knowledge for him to relax. He took a deep breath as the car headed off. He was willing to wait till they got to the compound to find out what was going on.

===============================================================================

 

The Knights of Hell:

The building exploded in a mass of flames and heat. The tall, lumbering mass of limbs watched the flames eat away at another outpost of Angel’s Resurrection. They were nowhere near completing this mission, but at least this minor part was done. Sam looked over at his brother that was scowling at Gabriel and Castiel, both of which looked rather sheepish. This mission could have gone really wrong since those two had ended up getting caught in an Angel’s trap. The two former members of the syndicate weren’t always on top of things when it came to taking down their brothers. Sam scrub a hand over his face, not really wanting to think of how Gabriel looked when they came upon the building. Uriel had taken Gabriel’s betrayal very well, if Gabriel’s face was anything to go by.

Thankfully Castiel had been there to prevent too much damage from happening to the former Arch. He walked over to the other Knights. The started this mission after the Angels had struck a deal with the man who killed their parents. This was a personal mission now, one they took seriously. Gabriel and Castiel were defect that were now using their inside knowledge to help Dean and Sam take down the Angel’s Resurrection. They were close to finishing this mission, but getting harder and harder to figure out what was actually taking place within the syndicate. This outpost was in Europe for heaven’s sake. It just made no sense. Sam felt his phone go off in his pocket. He fished it out, cursing as the tiny phone got stuck in his pocket.

“Hello?” He said, trying to not sound frustrated. Seriously, it was the small things that got to him sometimes. 

“Knight, you and the team need to come in immediately. There’s been a situation.” That cool tone piqued his attention. Normally Jo was the one calling them to let them know about missions. This one had finished recently and now they were just covering up their trail. He whistled over to the arguing Knights, pointing to the phone them over to the impala. Really, he didn’t understand why Dean insisted on bringing that things overseas with them. But at least it hadn’t cost them an arm and a leg to do it. 

“We’ll be there in twenty” With that Sam shut the phone and put it back into his pocket. Gabriel pulled a sucker out of his pocket and shot Dean on last impish grin before heading to the car. Dean was scowling at Castiel, who clearly was oblivious.

“Why are we going in so soon?” Castiel asked, his head tilted slightly to the side, clearly puzzled as he was about the sudden call in. It wasn’t like Alliance to make them do back to back missions. Something else must going on. Perhaps one of the other two teams were in need assistance. Jo must be coordinating with the other handler. Dean was still spiting fire and flames as they got into the car. 

The compound was in regular travel agency that conducted very little business. They walked through the front door. There was an underground entrance for those who simply couldn’t walk through a door without causing a riot or getting pictures taken of them. It wasn’t good for business but the Rejected needed their tech guy and the British government couldn’t be seen walking into strange travel agency without raising some brows. The travel agents didn’t bother to look up from their computers as they walked in and headed into the back room. The followed several hallways and made it to the elevator. The decent into the lower levels took but a minute.  
Gabriel practically raced out of the elevator once it was open, throwing his arms wide.

“Honeys I’m home!” He exclaimed. Some of the other agents paused before simply ignoring him. Gabriel’s antics were almost as legendary and Sherlock’s and Tony’s. Sam just sighed and pushed the shorter man towards the main meeting room. Gabriel bitched the entire way over, but soon stopped once they were inside. The gravity of the situation came to full realization as they noticed that everyone was there. The Devil’s Rejects and the Horsemen. Gabriel motioned for Sam to take one of the two remaining seats. Castiel was unceremoniously thrust into the last one so Dean and Gabriel were remaining behind the two. They shared a look before staring at the rather unassuming man standing before them.

Phil Coulson was a regular looking man. Unassuming in appearance and could always fly under the radar. He was also the Director of the Alliance of Hell. He was not a man to be trifled with. There were rumors as well as documented proof that the man was a nightmare with nothing more than a bag of flour and his fists. Even a paperclip was dangerous in his hand. Phil was silently regarding them, knowing that the next words out of his mouth had to be chosen carefully. He could already feel two pairs of eyes deducing and coming to all the right conclusions at the wrong time. Some of the Rejects already knew but the Knights were still in the dark. Before he could say anything, a soft baritone voice cut in. Hate and sinister intent dripped off his tone.

“Who has them?” Sherlock’s eyes were positively ablaze with fury. Silence was never his strong suit. Mycroft was already looking at his phone, no doubt viewing the footage of the events. If the tension wasn’t high enough, Sherlock’s outburst and voice was enough to crank it up a notch. Coulson let out a soft, tired sigh. He knew this wasn’t going to go very well.

“We don’t know.” Phil responded before he looked at the Rejects and the Knights.

“Last Night, Anthea activated her necklace, indicating Potts, Jo and herself were in danger. Her signal vanished five miles before arriving to their hotels. We have no information as to what has happened to them or why Anthea activated her necklace.”

Silence echoed through the room as his words settled over them. That last for all of five minutes before chaos exploded.


	3. Welcome to Aphrodite's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes a peek into the girl's waking up and what each of them are thinking about and a little look into what Aphrodite's is going to be like. 
> 
> Remember that this is a raw story with no beta.

Handler for the Devil’s Rejects and Black Widow’s Soulmate:

  
The first thing Pepper Potts thought when she opened her eyes and moved, was that Natasha was going to burn the heart right out of the world at large. There was something unsetting and yet securing in the knowledge she was the lover of one of the most dangerous women in the world. She looked around, finding that she was alone in a barren room, tied to a chair in nothing more than her underwear. She closed her eyes again and let her head hang backwards. She could only suspect that Anthea and Jo were in rooms similar to hers. This wasn’t a normal kidnapping session. That much she could tell. All the other kidnapping she had been a part, her clothes remained on. So this wasn’t about Stark Industries then, which meant this was either about the Alliance of Hell, possibilities on that being very low, or something more sinister.

  
Either way, she worried about Natasha and Tony. Particularly Tony. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Natasha, she just knew that Tony was the more fragile of the two. Natasha was already thinking of hundreds of different ways to kill her kidnappers, Tony was likely blaming himself. Pepper knew that much at least. Her lover was not a woman to be trifled with. Which was one of the reasons why Pepper was in love with her, Pepper had to be in control of everything at S.I but with Natasha she could let the woman take control. Natasha was the same way, the woman had little control over where she was going or who she had to take out, but with Pepper she had all the control. It was a powerful dynamic between them and they had an understanding that they loved each other, but physically they were free to dabble with their teammates. It was an unneeded understanding between everyone in the teams. Love was precious but the physical need seek comfort in their team was a necessity.  
She opened her eyes and picked her head up when she heard the door open. A man walked in, holding a plain collar on a chain. She stared at it for a long moment before looking at the man’s smirking face.

  
“She is going to take great pleasure in skinning you alive and dropping you in a vat of acid.” She said in an even tone, amused by the man’s confused face. He walked to her, suddenly unsure as to how to handle her after her proclamation. She just watched him.

  
“You’ll never see her coming, no one ever sees The Black Widow coming.” She said in a pleasant tone, knowing that small slip of information would be enough to generate doubt and fear in this group.

The Black Widow was known worldwide as a ruthless killer. And once Natasha found out that this man collared Pepper, she would torture the man till he begged for death. That knowledge alone made it easier for Pepper to not struggle against the collar placing itself on her neck. It was foreign, nothing like the soft metal that warmed and glowed against her skin. This was leather and harsh, it would leave marks but Pepper had faith that every mark on her would be avenged. She just hoped these people thought carefully about what they were planning on doing with them, especially knowing now that The Black Widow and likely the Devil’s Rejects would be after them.  
==========================================================================

The Four Horsemen’s Handler, Unknown Lover:

  
Anthea shifted to sit up straighter in the chair she awoke in. She knew she was in a kidnapping situation. After all she had clicked her panic button hidden behind her necklace. She never went anywhere without it. She had worked be Mycroft’s side for too long to not understand that there was always a chance to get into a dangerous situation. One simply doesn’t become the body guard for the British Government without knowing this. She looked around the room, finding there was nothing that stood out. If this was a government takeover or an attempt to get information about Mycroft there would be something more than empty walls. This situation didn’t fit into any of the possible scenarios that would preclude excessive torture either. This simply didn’t make much sense in her mind. She decided to wait in out. There was a high possibility that either Mycroft had already taken care of everything or her captors would head her way. Those really were the only two possibilities that could transpire in this situation.

  
She worried about what they were doing to Jo. The girl was newer to all this than Pepper and herself, so there was a high chance the other woman was freaking out. The blond was a very innocent and bright eyed girl who never saw the bad in the world but wanted to “clean house” any ways. It worked for the Knights of Hell because that team was filled with hardened fighters who were also a little on the weird side. They had a strange sense of humor that took over at the most random moments. Anthea tried to never think about how that just might make them all crazy. Hawkeyes was basically the same way, always making joking at the most inopportune moment. It worked with those teams. That never would fly with the Horsemen, but each team was different.

  
She blinked as the door knob turned. She tucked her feet further under the chair, ready for whatever was going to walk through the door. A rather regular looking gentleman walked in, a small smile on his lips. She simply stared forward, almost as if she was ignoring her. Out of the corner of her eyes she caught a glimpse of the object in his hand. She said nothing at the fact it was a collar on a chair. This clearly wasn’t about the British government. Her mind filled that information away for later. For now she focused forward, falling effortlessly upon her military discipline.

  
She didn’t flinch when the man slipped the collar on, clipping it tightly on her neck. She merely waited till he unhooked her from the chair. She had no plans on making a run for it because she had no idea as to where Jo and Pepper were being held, where they were or how many people were there. For now she would play the helpless female until she had all the parameters necessary for a clean escape. Well, clean-ish. She intended to make this group and example of why a person should never participate in a kidnapping scheme.

  
Predictably, the man unhooked her arms and shoulders from the chair and yanked her forward by the collar.

  
“Come on, girl. Time to go show you to your trainers” He said with a sickening smile. It was then that Anthea got the first clue as to what was really going to be transpiring. She kept her face impassive as she followed the man, dragging her feet behind her. This was definitely not about Mycroft.  
===================================================================

Handler for the Knights of Hell:

  
Jo woke with a jerk. She frantically looked around, struggling to figure out what was going on. She couldn’t remember her training for the life of her. She just wanted to be free, wanted to get out and return to her work. What if something happened to Sam or Dean while she was trapped here? She jerked her wrists, feeling the strength of her bindings. She tried to jerk forward, only to find out that the chair wasn’t bolted down and she landed heavily on her face. She winced, knowing that in her panic she only ended up hurting herself. This was the reason why she never went out into the field. Sure she was normally calm under pressure, but when her people were at risk, she kind of lost her head.

  
She rubbed her face on the floor in order to see a pair of black boot in front of her. She heard someone tisk above her before she was jerked back upright. A dark looking man was looking at her in disappointment. His thick hand came up to touch where she was likely going to bruise. She winces at the touch.

  
“Already hurting yourself? Why can’t you just be like your friends? Calm and obedient? Come on, girl. We need to get that wild streak out of your before you can get clients.” He slipped something on her neck while he spoke. She jerked her head back, glaring daggers at the man. He just laughed at her and released her. She reared back and jerked backwards, grabbing the chain that he held and tried to get free. In rebuttable, he let it go just enough to get her to stumble back in shock before he yanked her roughly forward, causing her to hit her knees.

  
“Now, Now I said behave. Or else I will drag you all the way to meet your trainer” He didn’t sound like that was a true hardship. It actually sounded like he would enjoy that. She continued to glare at him before she slowly got to her feet. There was no sense in giving him the opportunity to hurt her more. Not when there was a chance that Anthea or Pepper had a plan to escape. He gave her a demeaning pat of the head before he lead her out into the hallway. She got lost in the massive of hallways and people. There were more girls on collars being led around by different men. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling even more naked and vulnerable.

  
The man opened a large door and pushed her inside. She stumbled and found herself in lavish room. There was thick carpet under her feet in bright burgundy. The walls were rich mahogany with deep green trappings. She noticed that Pepper and Anthea were there, also on collars who’s chains were being held by men. Only one of the men looked afraid though, and it wasn’t the man holding Anthea’s collar. She stood there perplexed by all of this. But at least she wasn’t the only one in their underwear.

“I’m telling you she said The Black Widow. If that is true, we must get rid of her.” The man holding Pepper’s chain was speaking with a fat looking man sitting behind the desk. The fat man had a cleanly groomed beard with streaks of white through it. He was bald except for the hair that sat on the nape of his neck. He squinted at Pepper, as if assessing the validity of her statement. Jo was surprised that Pepper revealed that information. The man’s hand reached up and stroked his beard, Jo fought the urge to roll her eyes at the cliché, before he smirked.

  
“It’s a bluff. It is known through the underworld that she is the lover of the Hawkeye. This woman is yanking you around. Do not let her sway you like that.” The man looked away from Pepper to Jo, frowning and tutting.  
“James, what have you done to her face?” He asked, clearly disappointed.

  
“She did it to herself. She woke up and flipped herself in her chair.” Jo’ Chainholder snapped back, clearling not enjoying being reprimanded

.  
The fat man stood up and looked at Jo and shook his head.

  
“You can’t do that young one. Your face is going to be the only mean in which you will be able to feed yourself. If you don’t have a pretty face, you won’t have any clients, which means you would get any meal tokens. It’s a vicious cycle really. So lets keep your face intact, shall we? At least until you get a regular customer who will pay for you damages.” The man smiled before he pushed a button on the far wall.

  
A few seconds later two more men walked in. Only this time, these two were built like brick walls. They wore plain clothes that seemed to accentuate the excessive amount of muscles.

  
“Mario and Louis, you two will be in charge of training these three in their…new stations. Make sure they are ready for the floor in a fort night, yes? Good” The two men nodded one taking Anthea and Pepper’s chains and the other took Jo’s. She swallowed at the dark look the man gave her. It was like staring in the eyes of a man without a soul. She felt fear settle in her stomach like a heavy rock. She just prayed that Dean and Sam were on their way. She had a strong suspicious that the floor would be death of her.

  
“Now, ladies, behave for them or else they will be forced to demonstrate what happens to girls who don’t….perform in the proper manner. Good Day and Welcome to Aphrodite’s.” He said before returning to his seat. Jo only caught a glimpse of the man who once held her chair before she was being dragged out of the room once more, only this time in a more forceful manner. Something told her that training was going to begin immediately.


End file.
